A new feature of my blog: the poems I wrote for Spotlight for Dust Bunnies Monday nights. Yes, they usually are first drafts (or first and a half, or even second). One day all the revisions will magically appear.
Every morning you face the mirror
And feel like Dorian Gray when he saw his portrait:
The old, consumed man he was supposed to be.
Why is it a shock?
You have seen it before.
Every morning you have a routine
You perform magic
And transform yourself into
What you want to be.
You select from your wardrobe
The clothes that will give you the confidence
You need to face the world.
You spent years making yourself up
And today you want out of your mask.
Your mind is leaking,
And your mask crumbles like wet plaster.
You can’t find yourself in a fashion magazine.
You have lost an identity that never was yours.
You start to paint a new portrait
Incorporating strange features.
You need to slow down
You need to learn, and allow for experimentation.
Your true self, one trait at a time,
Sometimes over another you tried and didn’t like.
You must ignore the critics
And resist the urge to hide your portrait in the attic,
Because one day you could be Dorian Gray
And want to stab it.